


Headspace

by sociallyawkwardfangirl21



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Collars, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, Light Dom/sub, Praise Kink, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 23:07:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2829329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sociallyawkwardfangirl21/pseuds/sociallyawkwardfangirl21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn’t want to bother Scott, but Stiles can feel the need—fingers twitching at her side, body fidgeting with the energy coursing through her. It’s not nerves, just a buildup of tension and need that has finally caught up to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Headspace

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote months ago that was never supposed to be fandom related but somehow got turned into Skittles.  
> Enjoy

When Stiles walks into the living room, she can’t help but pause in the doorway to look at Scott, sprawled out on the couch, playing video games, and cursing at some teenager over the headset. The scene is a familiar one, and Stiles can’t help the smile that comes to her face. She doesn’t want to bother Scott, but Stiles can feel the _need_ —fingers twitching at her side, body fidgeting with the energy coursing through her. It’s not nerves, just a buildup of tension and need that has finally caught up to her.

Stiles can tell the exact moment Scott notices her as she enters the room—the look, the smile; however, it isn’t until Stiles kneels down at his side that Scott notices what she’s wearing. To some it may just be a necklace, but for them it’s a signal. When they finally found the perfect collar, Stiles remembers being so excited. The delicate chain provides a constant pressure, a continuous reminder of how Scott is there for her. Stiles doesn’t always wear it, just when she needs the reassurance, when Scott isn’t around or, more commonly, in moments like this.

Scott reaches for her, fingers tracing over the collar before his warm hands grip Stiles by the back of her neck. Scott smiles, the game quickly forgotten. The words he whispers wash over Stiles, slowly taking her under. _You look so beautiful kneeling for me_. Stiles feels herself slipping, tension in her body slowly leaking out, breathing deepened, _in... and out._

Stiles waits for it, the familiar routine soothing. Scott will ask the question, determining their roles for the evening. Scott’s warm hand grips Stiles by the chin, tilting her head up until their eyes meet. _Have you been a good girl for me?_ Giving Stiles control over their evening, giving her control in the manner in which she gives up control, their years of friendship are evident even in these situations.

Her eyes flutter closed as she leans into the familiar touch. _I’m always a good girl_.  Scott’s hands move from Stiles’s face, fingers threading through her hair. Stiles had finally decided to grow out her buzzcut and had quickly grown to love the feeling of Scott playing with her hair. Stiles opens her eyes as the soothing touch ends Scott reaching out to help her to stand. _Come on, sweet girl, let’s get you cleaned up._

Walking together to the bathroom, Stiles relaxes into the warm pressure against her back. His hands are always warm, always there. Stiles can feel more tension draining from her body, like Scott’s hand is leaching all of the bad feelings and replacing them with warmth.

When they reach the bathroom, Scott tells her to strip. Stiles makes sure to fold her clothes neatly, just the way Scott likes, rather than tossing them to the floor. It’s worth the extra effort, hearing the praise in Scott’s voice. _Such a good girl for me_. Stiles wants nothing more than to be exactly that.

Stiles knows what comes next, however she manages to patiently wait for the order. Scott smiles, watches Stiles fidget, knowing that patience is something she has difficulties with. He doesn’t make Stiles wait long before he tells her to take off his clothing. Settling into the familiar routine, Stiles takes his clothes off piece by piece, carefully placing it with her own. Together, they step into the shower, steam quickly surrounding them. It’s warmer than Stiles normally makes it, the heat bringing a flush to her skin. Distracted, Stiles watches as Scott’s hands trace a pattern across the redness. _So beautiful, my sweet girl_. Stiles can’t help but shudder at the term of possession. _His_. Always his.

Scott’s hands skim over her, tracing the lines of Stiles’s body. He uses body wash, the soap easing his path, and the vanilla scent fills the air. It’s when his hands sink into her hair, the shampoo dripping down her back, that Stiles completely relaxes. Knowing hands push and pull, massaging the shampoo into her short locks. Lather, rinse, repeat. Stiles is aware that by now her eyes are probably glazed, that her face is flushed even without the heat of the water, and that her body is lax. Scott’s always so good to Stiles; she can’t help but want to be good for him. Scott hands her his soap, and Stiles gets to work, hands digging into the skin before her, more massaging than cleansing. Scott groans. _Feels so good baby_. Stiles lets the praise wash over her like the water.

She loses herself in the motions, the repetitive actions soothing, and before she realizes it, they’re stepping out of the shower. Watching as Scott grabs a towel and gently dries her off before drying himself, Stiles smiles. The action is so Scotty, Stiles sometimes thinks he doesn’t even notice it, putting others before himself in everything he does.

Together they walk into their bedroom, Stiles kneeling down beside the bed. The soft carpet feels incredible against her sensitive skin. Carefully, Scott’s hands smooth her hair down, fingers combing through the short hairs. The soothing process is one of Stiles’s favorite indulgences. When he finishes, Scott guides Stiles up onto the bed. Lying down on her stomach, Stiles lets him position her body to his liking—arms above her head, his hands resting on her wrists as he carefully knees her legs apart Spread to the point that Stiles can’t help but feel exposed imagining what Scott is seeing, the flush quickly returns to her face. One would think that Stiles should be used to Scott seeing her like this, but having all of his attention sometimes leaves Stiles feeling vulnerable. She can’t help but wonder what she did to deserve all of his attention? There was never a good enough answer, so Stiles just tried to be good for him, tried to be good enough to deserve Scott. The warm hands on her back draw Stiles from her thoughts, as if Scott had realized she was getting lost in them once more. He always notices the smallest things. The lotion he rubs across Stiles’s skin has a citrus smell to it, combining with the vanilla to make the familiar scent Stiles associates with herself. Stiles lets herself relax into the bed, letting Scott take care of her.

Fingers wander, slowly heading lower until they’re dipping inside her. Stiles can’t help but want to arch up into them, but she’s learned better than that. Staying still, Stiles is rewarded for her good behavior. _You’re being such a good girl for me, sweetheart, so I’m going to give you what you want._

When he pushes in, Stiles can’t hold in the sigh of relief. _Finally_. This feeling can only be described as complete—Stiles and Scott, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. He is part of her and she is part of him

Stiles finishes first, the friction against the bed and his motions inside her quickly becoming too much, and he follows shortly after. Together, they curl against each other as sleep threatens to overtake them. _Was that okay, sweetheart?_ Stiles smiles, there’s only ever one answer to that whispered question. _It was perfect_. One hand settles over the back of her neck, fingers tangled against the collar, while the other pulls Stiles close. They don’t usually sleep cuddled up together, but right now, this is perfect.


End file.
